Wild Valenwind West
by Enide Dear
Summary: Back in the good ol' days of materia digging, sheriffs and hords of chocoboes roaming the praries, a blonde mechanic is about to be hung by the neck by an angst ridden lawman. AU
1. Chapter 1

Title: Wild Valenwind West part I  
>Author: Enide Dear<br>Pairing: Valenwind, VincentxHojo  
>Rating: work safe<br>Summary: AU for :iconvalnewind-luver:'s March competition.  
>AN: I've been wanting to write this fic for quite some time….and now I got an excellent excuse!

The man would hang tomorrow, and Vincent didn't like it. It wasn't just that the man had made no trouble whatsoever when Vincent brought him in – indicating that he didn't know what he was being charged for, and thus not seeing any point in fighting for his life – but even now the man had a quality of calm about him that was…disturbing.

It wasn't the first time the sheriff had taken in prisoners to hang, and usually they reacted in predictable ways. They got furious, or they got apathetic, spending their last hours in life either raging at the world or simply staring off into space, perhaps making peace with their conscience before it would all end at the end of the sheriff's rope come sun up.

It was a dirty, horrible job and Vincent didn't like it at all. Then again, there wasn't much in his life that he liked anymore.

Sitting by the small, rickety table he carefully cleaned his huge gun, keeping an eye on the prisoner from under the dusty brim of his hat.

The prisoner lay in the small cot with muscular arms crossed behind his neck, legs crossed so that one booted foot could dangle in the air to the rhythm of some tuneless thing the blonde man was whistling. He didn't look angry, or despairing. He looked thoughtful, as if working out some problem in his head. When he finally turned to face his jailor, Vincent was slightly unnerved to see a small smile on the man's lips.

"Can I have a last smoke? I mean, it bein' my execution and all tomorrow, I figure one more cig can't hurt me, right?"

Vincent nodded and got up. He'd put the prisoner's belongings in a box on the kitchen cupboard – a wide brimmed fedora, a couple of strange tools, a yellow dust scarf, a huge spear that had to be leaned on the wall, and yes, a package of cigarettes in the bottom of the box. And next to the box lay the slim, deadly sniper rifle, the one that had put the man where he was, behind bars. The man's smell was all over it.

Picking up the paper box of cigarettes, Vincent made a quick check to make sure there weren't anything hidden in it, and then tossed it between the bars along with a package of matches.

"Smoke all you want." He said as the man quickly sat up and caught the package, immediately lighting up. "I don't mind. I'll be making dinner soon. Pork and beans. Do you want some?"

"Nah, I'm good. A cup of tea would be nice though."

Nodding, Vincent turned around to go back to the kitchen when the man's next words hit him like a punch.

"Ya know I'm innocent of this shit, right?" His voice wasn't accusing or dejected. Just soft and a bit sad.

Vincent sighed, but didn't turn around, instead busying himself with hanging his heavy red duster on a peg and then feeding the fire in his iron stove.

"The bullet we found in mayor ShinRa matches the ones in your rifle. And your smell is all over that rifle." He said wearily, eyes on the flickering flames.

"Someone stole an old pair of my socks a few days ago. Nice and smelly. And I couldn't shoot straight with a rifle if my life depended on it. Heh, like I suppose it does. I'm a spear man, myself."

Vincent nodded to himself. He'd figured as much from the calluses on the man's hands when he cuffed him. And yes, the socks would be enough to scent mark something.

The stove was getting hot. He put on a kettle and a frying pan as the metal turned red.

"What ya mean, my smell is on the rifle?"

Composing himself as the question made him want to shudder, Vincent turned around to look at the man once more. The prisoner was hanging on the bars, blue eyes watching his jailor with curiosity.

"Look, Mr…."

"Highwind. Cid Highwind."

"Mr. Highwind, what you must understand is this. The mayor of Midgard was found dead, shot by a sniper rifle, which was later found with you, a stranger in these parts. The mayor's son, Rufus ShinRa, demanded that you'd be executed for your crime. As he is now the ruling power in this town, there is nothing I can do. You will hang tomorrow."

"So ya do think I'm innocent?"

He couldn't meet those blue, honest eyes anymore. Vincent started fiddling with dinner and tea, even though he'd lost all appetite.

"You wouldn't be the first innocent man I've had to hang. Rufus…mayor Rufus now, I suppose, he has men working for him. Clever men. Men without conscience. "

"I'm being framed 'cause a little fucker wanted ta get rid of his own pa ta get ta power?"

Vincent nodded, and poured the tea. Handing it over, he said:

"I'm sorry, Mr. Highwind. I truly am." He was.

"Call me Cid, alright?" The prisoner, Cid, fixed his tea with his stare, frowning as he thought hard and rolling the hot tin cup between his palms – palms that looked like they belonged to a working man, broad and warm and callused. Not a murderer. Not like Vincent's, scarred and mutilated and hidden from sight behind gloves. The left one would never work proper again.

Finally, Cid took a sip of the hot brew. "So. What's the catch with ya? How come they have a decent man like ya ta do their dirty work fer them?"

"It is none of your business, Cid." Vincent stirred his beans. They were getting burned and the smell made him almost gag. It would be another night of going to bed hungry because he couldn't make himself swallow what life gave him.

"Yeah, cause I'll hang tomorrow, so who am I gonna tell? The Lifestream?" Shrewd eyes met Vincent's. "It got something ta do with yer eyes and the fact that ya could smell me on that rifle, don't it?"

"Why were you even around these parts, Mr. Highwind?" Glaring, Vincent hoped to get the prisoner of guard with his own accusations, but Cid just shrugged.

"Midgard is pretty big, the way things are this far west. I needed some special supplies. Needed something special. Needed materia."

Vincent almost snorted and Cid looked offended.

"What? I ain't some daft old fucker who's got his brains fried in the sun. I ain't one of 'em material diggers with a shovel and not two braincells ta rub together. I ain't panning fer materia dust eiter. Nah, I jest needed one piece. And I'm ready ta pay good money fer quality to."

"What do you need materia for? It's just shiny baubles for jewelry. Not worth dying for."

For the first time, it was the prisoner that looked uncomfortable.

"Yeah, well, I got a dream, see? A dream worth taking risks for. Maybe even dying for."

"What dream would that be?" Vincent was surprised that he was even having this conversation. The prisoner was a strange man; somehow he'd already gotten behind Vincent's defenses. Probably without even trying to.  
>He was even more surprised to realize he'd already eaten all the beans on his plate, without even thinking about it.<p>

"Ta fly." Cid muttered, red cheeked.

"Excuse me?" Vincent couldn't stop the amused tone in his voice.

"Ya heard me! And it ain't jest some crazy idea either! I got a great little plane built, nice and high and waiting fer me on a hilltop where my baby can get wind under her wings! All I need is something ta fuel her. And I know materia would do the trick right off!" Swearing, Cid drained his tea. "I know it. I jest know it will work. And then I'll fly away from all of this shit."

"I'm afraid you won't be flying anywhere, Mr. Highwind." Vincent hung his head, hoping his long hair hid the despair in his face. How was the world fair, when a thing like him could go on living and a man like this, a man with dreams, would die for something he hadn't done?

"We'll see." Stubbornly, Cid lit another cig. "I ain't dead yet. We'll see."

"I…" Vincent was interrupted by a knock on the door, and his hackles rose. He knew that knock. Was it time again already?

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Wild Valenwind West part II  
>Author: Enide Dear<br>Pairing: Valenwind, VincentxHojo  
>Rating: work safe<br>Summary: AU for :iconvalnewind-luver:'s March competition.  
>AN: I've been wanting to write this fic for quite some time….and now I got an excellent excuse!

"Mr. Valentine. I'm so glad to see you are home again." The oily smile of the man outside, with a doctor's robe and a medical bag clutched in his bony hands, made Vincent's stomach lurch and the appaling familiarity of the situation did not help.

"Doctor Hojo. I have a prisoner." Maybe that would be enough to deter than man. "Perhaps we could take this someother time." But of course he would not get away that easy.

"A-ha. I see. Well, we'd better take care of…business in the bedroom, then?" The corner of his thin lips went up. "I wouldn't want an audience, and I'm sure you wouldn't either."

Vincent could almost feel the prisoner's stare burn in his back, but the man didn't say anything, for which he was utterly grateful. He kept his back towards the prison cell as he followed the doctor into the bed room, and shut the door carefully after them.

At least it was quickly over with. The doctor buttoned his pants, nodded his bowler hat in mock salute and left the syringe with its glowing green contents on the table as he went.

Vincent waited until the man was gone before leaning over the slop bucket and spitting, trying to keep from gagging as well. His hands were shaking as he rinsed his mouth with some of the prisoner's tea, familiar disgust and humiliation welling up inside.

"Here." He jolted as the prisoner threw something at him, but caught the cig. "That will take the taste right out." Now, there where anger in those sky blue eyes; anger but not pity.

"I don't smoke." Vincent's throat felt raw.

"Then don't inhale, jest rinse yer mouth out with it. Like exterminating pests."

The metaphor brought a faint smile to Vincent's lips and he lit the cig, following Cid's example. It did help, but now he tasted of tea and tobacco in his mouth.

*It must taste like kissing this man.* He thought and then almost jumped at his own grossly inappropriate thought.

Cid was shaking his head, his fists clutching and fisting in futile anger.

"Ya gotta tell me. What the hell kind of chokehold does this place have on ya? Why do ya let them treat ya like this?"

For a few seconds, Vincent just stared at him. Then he opened a cupboard and took out a bottle of Junon Whiskey; it was rot gut, but it had a kick on it like a pissed off chocobo. He poured some in Cid's tea cup, and then some for himself in a glass. They both downed it in quiet.

"I suppose it won't matter." Vincent sighed, pouring them another double. "You'll hang tomorrow anyway. It is the town's official secret, you see. I am. I am…not all human."

He waited to see what kind of reaction that would get. Cid sipped his whiskey a bit, and then downed the rest straight off, eyes watering at the strenght of it.

"So those snuffling sounds I heard before ya arrested me….it wasn't a prairie bear?"

"No." Vincent shook his head and took another pull of the cigarette. "It was me. One of my…non human-forms. A demon called Galian."

"Holy shit. Pass me some more whiskey, will ya?"

Vincent did, and then took a swig out of the bottle himself, and to hell with the glass.

"I got three more. But they…are not very useful to the town. Galian has supreme sense of scent as well as strength, but I can still somewhat control him. He's helped solve many crimes."

"Huh. Crimes like mine?" Cid drank some more whiskey but didn't push that particular subject. "But that doesn't explain why ya do any of this."

"When they found out…when the mayor found out what I was, he wouldn't let the villagers here kill me, if I helped the community. I owe him my life."

"Ya mean, he made ya his hangman, keeping his own hands nice and clean from dirt."

"That to. But he also brought me Hojo." Vincent shuddered, but the bottle was now empty so he pulled on the cig again."And Hojo gives me this." He held up the syringe, playing with the fragile thing between his long fingers. "I don't know what it is, really. But it helps me to keep the demons under control. Otherwise they might break loose, turn this town into dust and kill everything within miles."

It must have been the whiskey; Vincent was not at prepared when Cid snatched the syringe from his hand.

"No!" Desperate he clawed after the glass tube, but the bars keeping the prisoner locked in now kept him out of reach. He fumbled for the key, but Cid was faster; he quickly poured a few drops of shiny green liquid in his palm and before Vincent could stop him, he licked it off.

Then he frowned, and tossed the syringe back to Vincent who caught it with trembling hands.

"Ain't nothing in there but water and sugar color." Cid shrugged.

Vincent froze.

"What?" He whispered.

"Try it if ya don't believe me. But I tell ya, ya've been royally screwed over by that doctor. By this whole town if ya ask me." His rough face turned strangely soft. "And that's such a shame, what with a pretty thing like ya…."

Vincent felt like vomiting. It was a lie. It was all a lie, his whole life. He'd been used…more used than even a monster such as he deserved. Demonic wrath welled up inside him, but he held them down, without any fake artificial help.  
>But one thing came through the darkness.<p>

"Don't say I'm pretty." He whispered.

"Yeah, I figure ya hear all kinds of shit from prisoners wanting ta get out, but Hell, if I'm gonna hang tomorrow then I ain't gonna have any regrets, ya know?" Cid looked a bit sheepish, but stubborn as a mule. It was quite an endearing look and Vincent found himself wondering what it would be like, having those callused, skilled hands touching him, touching him all over…

It might be the whiskey; it might the shock; it might have been an divine interference or simply his heart taking over, but Vincent's brain made an insane jump.

"Your plane. Will it work?"

"My plane?" Cid scratched his head, confused. "No, I told ya. I need materia ta even have a chance…"

"I can get you materia. If you can get us away from here." Oh this was a bad idea, a foolish, insane idea, he didn't even know this man and he couldn't know if he could be trusted...*But what could he possibly do to me that isn't already happening to me in Midgard?* He kicked the carpet away and lifted the secret trap door he'd installed years ago. From the soft earth underneath he took out a shiny piece of raw materia, a glowing lump of condensed energy as big as a fist.

Cid just stared, the cig falling from his lip as his jaw dropped.

"That's...that's the biggest piece I've ever seen."

"I found it years ago. I've kept it as a...a back up plan, I suppose. If I sold it, it be worth a fortune."

"Then ya should..."

"Mr. Highwind." Vincent stepped up to the bars, looming over the shorter prisoner, dark clad and firey eyed. "I am quite sick of people telling me what I should do. Now, will this work or not?"

"Yeah. Sure." Cid swallowed, his knees wanting to buckle a little under that demonic stare. "That is, in theory. I haven't actually tried it yet, ya know."

"Good enough." Shifting the lump of raw materia to his weak left hand, Vincent grabbed the prison door with his right and with a small grunt of effort tore the door right off its hinges. Cid gaped. "Demon strength. Hurry. The night is almost over."

It only took Cid a few minutes to put his tools down various mysterious pockets lining his short leather jacket, put on the yellow scarf and battered fedora and grab his spear. The sniper rifle that had framed him almost got a kick from his heavy boot, but Vincent grabbed it.

"It is a good weapon. It might be useful. Now, the only chocobo in the stables are yours so I hope it's fast. Because once we're out of the stables, we will be spotted by Rufus men and followed. And quite possibly shot to death."

"Aren't ya a gloomy one?" Cid grinned.

"You must take this serious or we will...mmff!" He almost punched the man in the gut out of sheer reflex as he was grabbed, pulled into a warm embrace, and kissed with such force that his knees wobbled.

"There." Cid smiled as he let him go. "That's fer luck. And it oughta take the rotten taste right outa yer mouth."

Vincent could do nothing but agree on the last statement, but he wasn't all that sure about the first.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Wild Valenwind West part III  
>Author: Enide Dear<br>Pairing: Valenwind, d'uh  
>Rating: some violence, fluffy death<p>

"We are being watched, as I thought." Vincent has let all the lights die out in the shack and was now peering out the window behind his ragged curtains. "It's Reno."

"That scrawny punk?" Cid glanced out the other side. "He looks like he'd blow away like tumbleweed!"

"Don't underestimate him. He is a killer." The curtain was slowly dropped into place. "And if we can see Reno, that means Rude is around somewhere to. Probably staying hidden."

"So what's the plan?" Cid chewed his unlit cig.

"No plan." Shrugging, Vincent turned away. "We get to the stable, get on the chocoboes and ride for our lives towards your plane. We'll get chased, and most likely shot to death before we get out of Midgard outskirts."

"Ain't ya a cheerful one?" The blonde ex-prisoner grinned at Vincent's annoyed glance. "Hey, I was to be hanged in the morrow anyway. The odds on my life are still goin' up."

Vincent smiled faintly, despite himself.

"You are a stubborn man, Highwind."

"Well, we can't all be gorgeous like ya." Cid winked.

"Please don't…call me things like that." Turning away, Vincent slid his hand over the rickety wall; the stables where just next to his shed, sharing a wall. It made for some shared warmth, but also a certain shared…smell. But, like one of Rufus cronies - that blonde woman - had sneered, the chocoboes didn't mind.

He wished he'd kicked her in the groin, woman or not.

"Here, allow me." Picking up an iron bar from the ruined jail, Cid slammed it between the boards and with a small grunt of effort tore the plans away, leaving an opening into the warm, smelly darkness on the other side. "Can't have ya do all the heavy work around here. Makes me feel I ain't the man here, ya know."

That made Vincent pause and turn.

"You are aware of the face that I am a man to, are you not?" He said sweetly.

"Well, yeah, but I'm like a real manly man and yer like a beautiful, delicate man who can rip out iron bars…" He didn't get any further before Vincent grabbed his neck with a snarl, bouncing his head into the wall.

"Will you get into your thick, stubborn skull," he snarled. "That I am *not beautiful*!"

Cid Highwind was a stubborn man. But even that stubbornness melted away in the face of full fledged demon wrath.

"Sure," he croaked. "As ya say, Vince. Whatever ya say, Vince. Jest don't expect me ta wear the bridal gown is all I'm sayin'. Got too knobby knees, and I'll never find shoes that fit."

Vincent just stared. And then a burst of laughter escaped him before he could swallow it. Gently, he let the man down from his choke hold.

"We only met last evening, we are about to flee for our lives, and you are already planning a wedding recital in your head?"

"Ain't no harm in planning ahead, is there?" Cid rubbed his neck and winked.

"Suddenly this plan of yours to fly away seems a lot more…precautious."

"Nah," Cid strolled past him into the stable. "Machines I know. It's people I have a problem with."

*I don't think so.* Vincent thought, finding that he couldn't stop smiling at the brazen man.

Cid's chocobo warked sleepily but amiably at them as Cid started putting on saddle and tackle. Vincent looked doubtful.

"She's rather small. Can she really carry us both?"

"That's why I named her *Tiny* Bronco. And yer jest skin and bones. Bronco here is used to hauling around me an' my tool box, which probably weigh more than ya do. First thing I'm gonna do when we get out of here is give ya a good ol' home cooked meal." He cast a sly glance at the dark man checking his guns. "Well, maybe the second thing I'll do."

"You are insufferable." But something warm uncoiled deep in Vincent belly.

"Yep." Cid fastened the saddle and nodded. "Up ya go. I'll sit behind ya and…"

"No." Vincent shook his head. "I'm a very poor rider. I need you to steer this bird for me, wherever we are going. And I am the one with firepower enough to keep Rufus' men at bay. I'll sit behind you."

"But…"

"And if you are even thinking of one more 'precious princess' comment..." Vincent pulled back the hammer of his huge gun and pointed it between Cid's eyes. "Do I make myself clear?"

Cid swallowed.

"Would now be a bad time ta get turned on?"

"Get on the damn chocoboe!"

They burst out through the stable doors, Tiny Bronco already at full (wark) speed as she hit the streets. Cid was an excellent rider; the chocoboe took the sharp turn almost lying down and she was still accelerating as a shout went up from the red-head who'd been taking a piss in the alley. Vincent saw the flash of a cattleprod and kicked out; Reno's weapon went flying but he was already shouting for back up. Vincent fired a few bullets at him, but Tiny Bronco leapt a wagon and he was forced to hold on to Cid instead; the broad back with its muscles bouncing against him, his face buried in sun tanned neck and dusty golden hair and…

A grey chocobo carrying a dark rider appeared out of nowhere and would have slammed into them if Cid hadn't reversed his spear and knocked the man from its back; the man rolled to avoid his steeds kicking, loosing his hat to reveal a bald head.

"That was Rude!" Vincent shouted over the tapping sound of chocobo feet.

"Yeah? Well, he started it!" Cid retorted with a grin. "Hold on ta yer britches!"

The headlong flight didn't just alert Rufus' men; the whole town was soon in an uproar, lamps being lit, people shouting questions from bedrooms as they raced past. Reno and Rude were nowhere to be seen, but Vincent didn't trust that; it was just a matter of time before they were on the track again, like hounds.

But in the mean time….

He slid his gun back in the holster and unstrapped the sniper rifle; it was a fine tuned weapon, made for a steady ground and patient stalking, you'd be insane to fire it from the back of a fleeing chocoboe.

Or just a very, very good shot.

The black silhouette in the doctor's office was unmistakable, bowler hat or not, and Vincent didn't want to think about what kind of atrocity had kept Hojo up this late. He just shouldered the rifle, took aim and waited for the leap step in which Tiny Bronco's both feet left the ground for less than a second…

The bullet went through the window with a crash and Vincent got a second's glance at horrified eyes under stripy hair before the doctor's head snapped back, splaying blood everywhere.

"Holy shit." Cid gaped as they rushed past the now gore stained office.

Vincent smiled to himself.

"Now," he said with a content smile. "You may call me pretty, Cid."

They got almost a minutes lead which was more than Vincent had expected. Then again, Rufus and his men must have been taken completely of guard by the outbreak. But now they were closing in even as Tiny Bronco's pace was slowing down. The ground rose steeply outside Midgard and Cid was pushing the chocobo on with an odd mixture of swearing and sweet praise. Tiny Bronco scrabbled upwards but too slow; Rufus' men were closing in fast, four of them, and on fresh chocoboes.

"C'mon girl, ya can do this, ya ain't gonna be outrun by some fucking fancy city slicker birds, are ya? Like Hell ya are! Yer my girl and I…"

But whatever Tiny was, she wasn't enough. Guns started blazing behind them, making Vincent throw himself over Cid to hold him down, Tiny screamed in pained and lurched upwards, past the steep incline and onto smoother ground, but it was too late. A bullet had shattered her leg and she went down, throwing Cid and Vincent over her neck. The tumble took the bird hard; she fell over and the long, strong neck broke with a snap.

"Noo! No, Bronco!" Cid scrambled to his feet, but the dead eyes where all that met him. "I'm gonna kill them! I'm gonna fucking kill them, and then I'll revive them, and then I'll fucking kill that fucker once more!"

"No time. Stay back." In the pre-dawn light, Vincent could make out the men coming for them clear enough; he knew of them already of course. Reno, Rude, that blonde bitch Elena and the cold hearted snake from the far East, Tseng. Their chocoboes where already halfway up the incline, but kept in the protection of boulders to make themselves a harder target. "I can stop them…perhaps." If Cid had been right. If Hojo's concoction was nothing but a lie. But there were no time for second guessing now.

Air blurring, Vincent turned and Cid's jaw dropped as he saw the huge, slobbering monster standing where the gunman had been a second ago. Beady, yellow eyes turned at him, but snuffled and turned back to the slope where the first hat could be seen.

Galian roared. It was a primitive, raw howl of a supreme predator and it made the chocoboes wild with insane terror. Screaming, the birds tossed of their riders and fled for their lives, leaving the four bipeds to tumble back down the slope again, screaming and swearing.

Then the monster turned to Cid, licking its massive jaws in hunger. Furious, Cid shook his spear at it.

"Yer not eating my Tiny, ya hear me ya big lump? She carried ya all the way here and she deserved better than being demon food!" He tapped the demon on its snout. "So ya jest back off, buddy!"

Galian snorted and huffed, almost as if insulted. Then he blurred and Vincent stood there, swaying and clutching his nose.

"Thad hurd." He said, pinching his nose.

"That's what ya get fer tryin' ta eat my poor bird." Cid sighed and his shoulders slumped a little. "I guess there is nothing for it. We have ta go on on foot and leave her here. Poor girl."

"I suppose so…wait!" Vincent spun around. "They're still coming!"

"Oh yeah? Great." Grim faces over his dead chocobo, Cid took something out of his pocket - a heavy bundle of dynamite. "'Cause I owe these fuckers." He lit the fuse on his cig. "Eat this!"

The whole mountainside seemed to explode; gravel and rocks flying or tumbling down over the hapless people halfway up the slope. They went falling and running down again, but even as the dust settled and the ground stopped shaking, Vincent could see them trying to get to their feet again.

"Worse than pests." Cid grumbled as he stepped up. "But it oughta have bought us an hour or so. Better get moving."

Vincent nodded. Then he grabbed the blonde man's yellow scarf, drew him closer and kissed him, hard, long and hot.

Cid's eyes were slightly glazed as they came up for air again.

"Wha…?" he managed.

"To keep you from getting too sad." Vincent smiled. "And for luck, of course."

"Shit, still after us." Cid threw a glance over his shoulder. "And gaining. We must have pissed 'em off royally."

"I think getting their mounts scared of and then almost being blown to pieces might do that to certain people." Vincent agreed. "Will we make it to your plane?"

"Yeah, sure. But I don't like this. It's like their heardin' us towards something." He threw another glance at the men approaching, now well back and keeping their distance, but still cutting off any possible retreat. "

"They know these lands, and so do I. This cliff ends in a gully. There is nowhere we can run from there."

"That's what they think!" But brazen as he sounded, Cid still looked a bit hesitant. It all came down to his plane now, his insane idea…would it even work? He had no way of knowing until he got there. "Here she is!"

Vincent hesitated as he saw the…the mechanism. He'd never seen anything like it; double wings stretched out longer than he'd thought they'd be, a propeller in the front and perched on two small wheel, the small body of the aircraft. It didn't look anything like any other flying being he'd seen - not a bird, a bat or a butterfly. But he was far too late to go back now, should he even want to.

A sound, far off, alerted him.

"They're coming! Hurry up!" The gun blazed as he lay down cover fire, but they were four against one and this would not work for long.

"I'm working, I'm working!" Cid tore up the engine protection and gently lowered the materia into place; it should start glowing red, it should start getting warm and push power into the engine, to feed the motion of the propeller…..but nothing happened. "Holy fucking shit!" He fiddled with the materia, tried to get it in a better position; furious he banged on it with a wrench but nothing happened.

"Cid! Hurry up!" Bullets tore around Vincent as he came running back. "What is wrong?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Vince! I can't…I can't get it ta work!" Even as he kept trying, desperation brought almost tears into cyan eyes. "Fucking shit! I'm so sorry!"

"Why? Why isn't it working?" Vincent shook his head. He'd come too far to accept defeat easily now.

"I can't get it ta start. Like it needs a spark or something…" The cig fell out of his mouth as the air blurred and Vincent changed again; this time a huge hulking monstrosity, a caricature of a man made up from different pieces. The creature hummed, a deep sound like rusty chains and pointed a finger at the engine. Lightning leapt from the outstretched digit.

The materia purred to life, red light glowing all around it and the engine coughed. The propeller spun swiftly around on greased cogwheels.

"It's working! It's working! I'm a fucking genius!" Cid jumped with delight.

"Get your genius ass up in the plane then! We need to move!" Vincent slapped said ass and hurried aside as Cid removed the breaks and jumped neatly into the plane's seat. "Where do I sit?"

"Sorry, this is a one man plane. Ya have ta sit in my lap." Grinning, Cid reached down and easily lifted him up, seating him across his knees. "Hold on ta yer britches!"

The plane moved forward in a hail of bullets; rolled toward the hundreds of meter drop that awaited it and Vincent found he held his breath. Cid revved up the engine as they rushed towards the fall and possibly their deaths, Rufus' men running up behind them and he wanted to scream at the mayhem.

And then there were peace. The plane left ground and hurdled over the face of the cliff; the upwinds caught it and lifted it higher, the engine hummed as they soared away, far away, far from the chaos and death on the ground. Up into the sky where the sun was just rising.

Cid was laughing and screaming in delight as his plane - the Highwind, Vincent now saw painted on the wings - flew through the sky. Up and away. Up and away from everything. Vincent just leaned on him and held him tight.

"Hey…" Cid buffed at his neck with his nose as his hands were busy with the steering wheel. "Ya alright?"

"Where will we go now?"

"Dunno. Don't matter. Wherever we're going, we'll get there. Tagether."

"Hm. We might need a lot of luck, with a goal like that." Vincent turned to kiss him.

"Yeah." Cid kissed him back. "A lot of luck."

And the little plane flew steadfast and true, into the rising sun.

The End


End file.
